


Cradle and Crucible

by spycaptain, tropicalgothic



Category: Naruto
Genre: Doctors AU, Multi, Pretty self indulgent AU as far as anything goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 00:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16587317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spycaptain/pseuds/spycaptain, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tropicalgothic/pseuds/tropicalgothic
Summary: This is no cradle of knowledge. It is not a benevolent institution of learning. It is a crucible-- with the students hovered over the hottest flames until they produced the purest substance. It was sink or swim for everyone. Past achievements, educational backgrounds, none of them mattered. The students produced what was expected of them. Or perished.Doctor AU. Naruto characters in medical school and then some.





	Cradle and Crucible

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a pretty much self indulgent Naruto in Modern AU where everyone are just doctors or studying in medical school. That’s it. No real theme, no real plot. It’s also set in America but since I am not an American medical student, please don’t expect too much accuracy. But expect a good amount of doctor jargon. Also, suspension of disbelief on how expensive medical school actually is and how likely or unlikely it is for someone to obtain a scholarship. A good amount of characters are OCs of the amazing spycaptain. I love them to bits and hope I write them right (spycaptain is helping with the editing and some of her OC's and Anko's killer lines). She's amazing-- go read her stories.

Sasori stood alone in the station, with his world packed up into a luggage and a backpack by his side. The clock counted two minutes past the scheduled arrival and the train was still nowhere in sight. By his watch, five minutes late.

Back in Switzerland, his family’s house in Oberiberg stood silent and lifeless. He has taken everything he does and would ever need. The small apartment in Zürich has been paid all the way up to December. Chiyo-baasama wouldn’t think anything is amiss until his travel records have been buried and the footprints that would lead her to him long gone.

Good riddance. She can rot in that small Tokyo apartment for all he cared. The point is that he was far far away in the ‘Land of the Free’. 

Hah. 

Of course, Sasori knew what was in store for him in America as a foreigner. Kuri primed him on what to expect--- had been kind enough to help him find an apartment to rent and to facilitate transactions with documents and checks he’s sent. (He has, in his luggage, as much Neko Atsume gifts as her little heart desires—- a thank you for that.) This partial scholarship and his inheritance would only get him so far for medical school, apartment fees, food, and everything else he’ll need to live. He’ll have to figure out the art scene and if commissions could meet him the rest of the way financially.

The familiar rumble resounded in the platform. Sasori looked down at his watch--- 8 minutes late. He tugged at his luggage and boarded the train. The doors closed behind him. 

No more going back.

x.X.x

The apartment was spacious enough— two bedrooms with one as his private quarters and the other as an art studio. The smallest art studio in the world but it will have to do for now. There was enough kitchen space to comfortably cook a meal. Enough space in the bathroom to not be claustrophobic. Enough space in the living room…

Well, it’s not like he’s hosting anyone here.

Sasori unpacked his luggage. Made this new apartment his home— all the chisels and files and the other tools for fine details set neatly in a box. Paint of both oil and acrylic (he rarely uses them but they’re always good to have). A sketchbook small enough to pack into a shoulder bag. Then his clothes. Money. Other necessities of survival.

Souvenirs from Japan. He’s packed enough during his last visit— his definite last visit. The kawaii styled mechanical pencils, the cat keychain, and a small plush toy were mostly for Kuri. 

The Japanese sweets that have survived the trip—- those were all his.

He went out for groceries. Just the staples— eggs, some chicken for the fridge, spices and sauces, 3 kinds of cheese, prosciutto, bread, lemons. It’s enough to feed him for one or two days while he figured out the city. Map it out until he knew it like the back of his hand.

That’s the plan. That’s the one month trial period before medical school started. 

And there was only one person he knew in this city— the same person who stuck with him for years when all the other badly woven relationships fell apart at the seams.


End file.
